


Lost then Found

by Chairs123



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Evil, F/M, Kings & Queens, Love, Rescue, deep moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 18:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16068950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chairs123/pseuds/Chairs123
Summary: After a year and half of searching for his queen, Rowan's hunt for Aelin has come to a climax. Read more to see what ensues.





	Lost then Found

On the little slab of an island in the Dogdol Sea, Rowan moored one of the pirate lord’s knarrs and climbed out of the vessel to secure the ship’s ropes to a scrawny nearby tree. Miles away his sensitive ears could pick up the faint wing beats of Abraxos, which provided minimal comfort for his actions ahead. He had gone alone onto the island, albeit his friends’ warnings, but they and he both knew that this was something that he could handle. 

Fifty-odd klicks west Dorian and Manon with three air brigades of iron teeth and yellow legs witches hovered waiting for any sign that Rowan needed support before the crucial sign when Rowan alerted them when Aelin needed to be extracted from the site. Gavriel, Chaol, and Yrene were waiting in the water opposite of Dorian and Manon with the Whitethorn Armada. Together the aerial and naval forces surrounded the minuscule archipelago. 

As for Nesryn and Sartaq, they had to fulfill the role that would distract the world from this far corner of the earth. The couple was to marry on this day. They had already pronounced that they would be traveling the day after to various world locations for their honeymoon, so people already had started scouring for related gossip instead of news about Terrasen’s court and rebuilding.

The sky was cheerful and bright — too bright for Rowan’s liking. The sun shone at its zenith parceling out its light liberally reminding the new royal of his queen’s golden hair. He shoved thoughts of Aelin into the far corners of his mind and focusing on tying knots that he thought was unremarkably unlike Aelin’s hair. Chiding himself, Rowan sighed quietly and listened to hear what was going on in the ruined temple a league away. He heard nothing and predicted Maeve had set wards around the structure to prevent capture.

Over the year and a half, Rowan had spent looking for Aelin, Lysandra and Aedion had been holding court in Terrasen, while Rowan came back every couple of months from “ambassadorial trips” with the lord and lady of Perranth plus Gavriel. It was hard keeping the hunt for Aelin under wraps when most of the world thought she was in Terrasen alive and ruling with her court. 

Rowan finished securing the boat to the tree and unsheathed Goldryn from his brown leather sword belt. Goldryn’s edge glinted in the yellow-white sunlight that sparked a hint of melancholy. Not wanting to chance to go into battle running on high emotions, Rowan put Goldryn back into his sword belt. Rowan had never before felt such strong emotions before heading into battle, but he supposed that this battle was just as much emotional as it was physical. Shifting into a hawk, he flew low to the rocky ground and set a direct route for the old temple. 

The temple’s deity was long forgotten and could no longer be pronounced in the common tongue, but in the old fae language text, its origin could still be traced. But, Rowan did not think of this as he flew closer, rather he had no such knowledge of the temple and didn’t care for it. In two curt, no-nonsense flaps of his wings, Rowan was a stone’s throw from the temple entrance. He perched himself on the branch of a nearby birch tree and waited until the time was right. 

Overhead, Rowan’s distant cousin Sellene’s pelican flew in a lazy circle just at the horizon. Beyond it he knew that there was an armada to serve as support and safe passage back to Terrasen. Rowan knew the naval and aerial forces were ready to move in and starting to creep towards the island as the pelican signaled the forces’ readiness. He flew to the door of the temple and landed swiftly on his feet. Rowan ran the flat of his palm over his silver short boxed beard. After Aelin had been abducted, Rowan had changed or neglected some of his hygiene habits. 

He freed Goldryn once more, but this time the killing calm overtook him and inundated him with the clarity he needed to free his queen. Unafraid and unabashed of what lay ahead, Rowan entered into the nave of the temple. 

The stone pews beside him gazed ahead unfazed at the sight of what lay on the altar. Unclothed, spread eagle, and unconscious lay her majesty, the queen of the realm, Rowan’s fireheart on an inch thick layer of ground salt and covered in a web of scars old and new. Crimson blood leaked from new wounds on her back. It dribbled down the sides of the altar. Dried blood that once fell in sheets stained the once pure white marble. Her ankles and wrists were shackled in thick iron manacles that were bolted into the stone floor. It was cruelty at its finest. Forcing the unwilling participant to lie in salt with fresh bloody wounds was like making them relieve being stabbed hundreds of times over without lifting a finger and Rowan would have chosen a similar punishment for his worst enemy.

Rowan slowly mounted the steps to the dais, but a piercing cackle shattered any intimacy and relief. Maeve’s eyes twinkled in the low light of the temple. In a sheer purple dress that brought out the hidden hues of violet in her irises, Maeve strode to opposite side of the altar just two feet away from Rowan. She circled a long clean nail on Aelin’s naval and said in low tones, “She just fell asleep. Best not to wake her because when she opens her mouth all that comes out are curses.”

Rowan reigned in his raging emotions and every carnal instinct that bellowed at him to touch Aelin. He knew that if he let Maeve know how desperate he was to finally come in contact with her after so long that she would put a dagger in Aelin’s throat before Rowan could raise a weapon. Just a few more moments Rowan had to keep his emotions in check.

Maeve sliced through his thoughts nearly crooning, “However, I would like your precious mate to be more present for this exchange.” As if acting as a period for her statement one of her long nails punctured through one of Aelin’s old wounds near her naval that elicited a deep groan and heavy pant from her.

Aelin’s eyes almost rolled back into her head, but Maeve with her free hand she jostled Aelin’s jaw left and right forcing her to stay cognisant and moved her face to peer up at her king. Tears instantaneously sprung from her eyes and sobs rocked her body, but with each sob, Maeve’s new wound oozed blood. Her eyes were still their trademark Ashryver colors: turquoise and gold. Her lips made to form words, but they died on her dry tongue. The king’s champion, heir of Terrasen and fire, witch slayer, and the queen who was promised all were dying on the table. The woman with more names and titles than years lived was bleeding to death as she gazed upon her executor and husband.

“She is close to death,” Maeve reported hollowly keeping her gaze on Aelin. Maeve gaze upon could almost be described as wonderment as she realized that she had finally resolved to abolish her greatest threat and the ultimate barrier to victory. 

“This death was much more gratifying than the flower girl’s,” Maeve paused and let the corners of her mouth turn upwards, “What was her name?”

Rowan’s eyes did not meet Maeve’s, but he responded nevertheless, “Lyria, her name was Lyria.” 

Rowan looked up at last with his resilient pine green eyes and smiled wanly and he said giddily, “So are you, Maeve.”

Rowan’s face melted and transformed faster than Maeve could have imagined was possible for a shapeshifter and instead of her old blood sworn warrior, she saw a former harlot of Adarlan. Lysandra stood before Maeve and allowed the young yet old queen to comprehend what had just happened. Though before Maeve could ask a question, the cold steel of Rowan’s sword manifested from the shadows behind Maeve and sliced through her neck allowing an artery of black fluid to spurt from the dead Valg queen’s neck. 

Lysandra repeated her earlier statement, “So are you, Maeve — close to death.”

Lysandra freed Goldryn again and handed it to Rowan who placed it in his own scabbard. He healed Aelin’s most recent wound and any other lacerations he could spot on her front. With a gust of wind, he cleared any remaining tendrils of noxious fumes that Maeve had used to sedate the young queen. At last with Goldryn, he slashed through Aelin’s chains that were bolted to the temple floor. When he had finished making quick work of the chains, Rowan took each of Aelin’s manacles one by one and tore them apart. The iron seemed to have no effect because there was nothing to stop Rowan from his mate. At long last, Aelin was free and in the arms of her mate, carranam, and king.

Rowan made to pick her up bridal style but the touching the wounds on the middle of her back made her moan and wince. The animalistic part of him made him shake his head to dispel the thought, so gently clutching her arms that were marred with old wounds he sat her up and gingerly brushed the granules of salt from her back. He beckoned for Lysandra and the two of them wrapped an arm under Aelin’s own armpits and shouldered her weight between them. For the first time in months, the queen of Terrasen stood and with whatever cognition she had she managed to straighten her shoulders and neck. After she had become as comfortable as she could be between her two companions, she and they moved slowly outside to where Manon and was waiting with Abraxos to shuttle her back to one of Rolfe’s nicely furnished ships. 

Rowan hadn’t even noticed the wing beats of Abraxos whilst in the temple, but all that mattered now was that he had his wife and mate in his embrace. Manon offered the tired queen a blanket from one of Abraxos newly fashioned saddle bags and Rowan and Lysandra managed to wrap it around her emaciated form. When the blanket was secured, Rowan helped Aelin maneuver onto Abraxos saddle. Manon left quickly to attend to other brigades and allowed Rowan holding Aelin to settle into the back of the saddle.

Aelin’s turquoise irises accompanied by the ring of gold encompassing her pupil revealed themselves. She motioned weakly for the skin of water that was peeking out of Abraxos’s saddle bag and not missing a beat Rowan obliged. After taking a short sip of water, Aelin croaked, “You came for me, even when I had betrayed you.”

Tears wet Rowan’s shirt and he rubbed her unruly hair and said peering down to meet her gaze, “I promised you that I would find you if death separated us, but I did not want to feel the pain of your death. I love you to whatever end and nothing could stop me finding you.”

Aelin cleared her voice and her hoarse voice pierced the air, “But still I —”  
Rowan locked her their gazes. Tears welled in his eyes and his voice warbled, “It destroyed me to know that you were my mate and I let you slip through my fingers. It destroyed me to know that you had lied to me, to save lives is understandable, but it still destroyed me to know that you had no plans to return from whatever hellish situation the gods created for you.”

Aelin couldn’t bear to face her mate and she felt ashamed of her lies and the pain she had put her mate through. He had been through so much and she had placed in the position to be subjected to more pain. In her eyes, she was undeserving of a male who would go to hell for her even when she had been the source of his suffering. Fighting to keep voice cracks and gulps of breath in her speech she spoke confidently and concisely, “There is no way I can fix this and there is no expectation that you and I can ever return to where our relationship once was, but know that I am beyond sorry to do this to you.”

Rowan hugged her to him more and said, “I know you are and I know you well enough that you would do this all again for Terrasen. And, your unending loyalty to friends, country, and yourself is one of the qualities I love most about you and I still love you Aelin. We will figure out the lock tomorrow and together.”

Rowan said no more. He gave her one of the radiant and authentic smiles that were so rare from him and kissed her temple. 

Aelin in return buried herself into Rowan’s chest and wet his shirt with the last of the day’s tears, but these were not sorrowful because Aelin for the first time in the last year and a half was happy.

**Author's Note:**

> As you full well know, I do not own any of the characters and they belong to Sarah J. Maas.


End file.
